by Lisa Beeson
“I’m not playing at anything! I have trained for this. I am capable and competent.”
“You’re seventeen, Cam. Your brain hasn’t even developed the capability to not make dumb, rash decisions. And that’s not a dig on you, that’s just biology. You don’t even want to know all the stupid stuff I did when I was seventeen, and that was without throwing mercenaries with semi-automatic weapons into the situation.”
“What happened to you always being on my side?”
“I am on your side, can’t you see that?” He stood up from his chair to step closer, but Cam stepped back, keeping the distance between them. Myles sighed, and then softened his tone. “Being on someone’s side means sometimes having to protect them from themselves. Letting you jump head first into a hostile war-like environment, would not be on your side – and honestly, highly irresponsible on my part.” He shrugged with a helpless shake of his head. “I love you, Cam. You’re my son. My boy.” He thumped his fist over his heart. “I can’t lose you.”
As much as the spiteful, petty part of Cam wanted to cling to his truculence with a fierce determination, the look of genuine love and concern in his father’s eyes undid him. The man truly did care for his wellbeing. Cam had been searching for that in some form or other his entire life. Though, now that he had it, he realized that he had never fully comprehended how confining and inconvenient that love and concern would be to his plans.
“Roche is only a couple years older than me, and his pompous French ass is going,” he threw out in a halfhearted attempt to plead his case. Roche was an okay guy and all, but he had an unsettling dark streak and a way of making Cam feel stupid using only an arch of his eyebrow and a condescending smirk. He probably learned that little trick from Kael. The bastard.
“I’m not Roche’s father, thank God,” Myles countered.
“You don’t’ understand. I have to do this.”
“For her…?” Myles asked, raising his brows in sympathy. He had pinpointed Cam’s motives with a sniper’s precision.
Cam tried to find a way to explain it in detail, but all that came out was a strangled, “I love her.”
As Myles struggled for the right words, Cam pressed on. “I know I don’t deserve her,” he clarified, interpreting Myles’s silence as incredulity at his audacity. “She’s a beautiful, powerful space princess. And compared to her I’m nothing but a lowly dog following her around and gladly eating her scraps… but I can’t help the way I feel. I have to prove to her that I’m worth keeping around.”
“Okay, first of all,” Myles began. “Dogs are amazing creatures that we do not deserve. So if you were trying to put yourself down, you failed, and you should feel bad about that.”
Cam smirked in spite of himself.
“And second,” Myles continued. “Has Ari ever treated you like you were beneath her?”
Cam thought about it for a moment and had to concede that she had not. “No…,” he admitted. “Sometimes she’d look at me like I was the most important person in her world.” God, I miss her so much…
“It sounds to me like you don’t have to prove anything to her.”
Then why did she leave me behind…
When Cam said nothing, Myles stepped closer and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You can still help the mission from here. And if I know anything about Ari, it’s that she puts the safety of the ones she loves way above her own. She was ready to sacrifice her life to save yours. I have a feeling that she’d be rather put out if you died because of some misguided heroic gesture.”
Cam’s self-righteous soapbox crumbled beneath him as the truth of Myles’s words hit him. Ari had never treated him as if he was less-than, and she had nearly given up her life to protect his. He looked over at the equipment and conceded that it would be pretty cool to oversee everyone on the mission… telling them what to do. He could tell her that it all went off without a hitch because of his great supervision and delegating skills. “Ugh. I guess you’re right,” he admitted to Myles with exaggerated exasperation. “Ari would kill me if I died.”
Myles’s mouth spread into a relieved grin. “Me too, buddy. Just so you know. I would too.” He put a fatherly arm around Cam’s shoulders and brought him in close.
Cam let out a discontented grumble of, “Yeah well... When did you get so full of stupid fatherly wisdom?”
“I’ve been saving it up all these years,” Myles said with a grin that quickly turned mischievous. “By the way, you’re due on a whole lotta dad jokes.”
“Oh God, please no,” Cam lamented.
“Aww c’mon, where do you think you get your sense of humor from,” Myles said with a laugh and a pat on Cam’s back. “But seriously, we really do need your help running support.”
“Fine, I’ll help,” Cam said. “But you have to feed Randall.”
Myles gave a swift shake of his head. “Not gonna happen.”
Balls… “Then I get the good chair,” Cam said, reaching for any kind of concession to mollify is pride after having given in so quickly.
“Nope. That’s Paloma’s.”
“Then the second best.”
Myles grinned. “Only if you’re fast enough to take it…” After only a second’s hesitation, they both went scrambling for it.
Chapter 13
Little Sennah awoke to a swaying, claustrophobic world.
As her senses returned, she realized her head was resting against her uncle’s chest and she was hanging in a sling underneath the coarse fabric of his desert shawl. His arms cradled her against him – not out of necessity, for the sling held her securely, but out of a sense of possessiveness. It felt nice to be held, and not just for the purpose of being moved from one place to another, but because he cared for her. For a moment, she basked in the security of it, listening to the strong, steady beat of his heart.
It was then she noticed the irregular pitch of his gate and the rigidness in his muscles. Reaching her hand up, her fingertips found the exposed skin at his collarbone, and she connected their xjaasai. Immediately she felt the pain of his injuries as if they were her own, making her eyes burned with empathetic tears. Claw marks trailed across his shoulders and abrasions peppered his back as if he had been dragged across gravel, his jaw and cheekbone swollen and throbbing with bone contusions, and deep gashes sliced through his left forearm and thigh. The wounds had been hastily treated, but they were still fresh and raw. The Leftbehind must not have access to the Sillu healing ointment like they had at the temple. Vrahnon was in so much pain, but still he relentlessly carried on, holding her close and protecting her.
She did not know what had transpired to leave him in such a condition, but she did know that she could not endure his suffering a moment longer. Focusing on his injuries, she called upon the power of the Great Song to hasten his healing. Acting as a conduit, she used all her meager strength to modify and channel the energy into him, concentrating on breaking down any foreign or inflammatory compounds, and promoting the fast regeneration of healthy tissue. She felt the hitch in his step as he became aware of his wounds healing. Fortunately, she was able to complete the process before blacking out once more.
She awoke again sometime later to find herself lying on a soft pile of blankets between the sleeping forms of Vrahnon and Musqar Fenn. A quick look told her that Vrahnon’s wounds had indeed healed and he was sleeping peacefully. With a light touch of Musqar Fenn’s hand, she connected their xjaasai and felt that he had only a few minor bruises and abrasions, nothing to drain her energy over.
Becoming aware of her surroundings, she saw that the space they were in was dark and close, with the sound of rushing water echoing around them. Vysan and one other were above.
They were in the hull of a watercraft. Sennah had thought that only the Nann Xanarhii used such a transport to traverse the waterways of the lower forest, but they must have brought the tech with them from Emuria.
Her stomach cramped and growled with emptiness. She had to eat. Careful
not to wake the two men, she silently crawled over to the steps leading above. Peeking up through the opening in the deck, she was surprised that beyond the transparent ceiling of the craft she could see an entire cavern aglow with the bioluminescence from plants and subterranean creatures. Blooms of colorful moss and bacteria grew on the slick stalactites hanging down from above, reminding her of starlight. On either side of the underground canal grew various kinds of florescent flora and massive fungi the size of trees. Small creatures skittered here and there, curious of the travelers, yet keeping a safe distance. Luminescent algae rippled around and behind them in the wake of the Xanarhii watercraft. A whole ecosystem was surviving and thriving down here unknown to the world above.
Sennah had wondered how the Leftbehind could stand staying here and living underground when Naan was so much like the beloved lands they once had. But now, she could see that they survived amongst the glowing garden and life-giving water they once cherished above. It was not what they had, but the pull of home was hard to deny no matter how much it changed.
A sharp longing for her verdant moon struck her like a lance through her heart. Naan was her home. It was the place of her birth and she had never thought to leave it.
“The child awakens, jahtiue,” a younger Xanarhii man said as he was finishing a meal, to Vysan, who was piloting the streamlined craft from the control panel in front. The younger man was taller and leaner than the other Xanarhii she had seen. His hair caked in clay, like Vysan’s, but she could see that his roots were black. She’d never seen anything like him before.
Vysan gestured with his head, for the younger man to take over the controls. He came over to the HUD display and they seamlessly transferred the piloting controls. Both men focusing their attention on the information appearing on the display, while the younger man’s fingers immediately replaced Vysan’s as he rolled them off the hand pad of the control lever. The transfer was so smooth – their movements were like a subtle dance. There was not even the slightest hitch as the craft continued to move silently through underground canals.
As Vysan made his way to her, she watched the younger man’s fingers move almost imperceptibly as he activated the special ionized alloy on the different parts of the hull to create chemical reactions that soundlessly propelled them in any direction he needed to steer and evade obstacles.
“You must be hungry,” Vysan said as he approached.
“Yes, very much so, hiuwe,” she answered, and followed him to the back of the craft.
He motioned for her to sit then handed her a bowl of what looked like long slimy tubules of fungi that smelled like unwashed feet.
“It is called vulii,” he told her as she eyed the dish dubiously. “Very nutritious. It will fill you up and make you strong.” He motioned for her to pick up some with her fingers, then pretended to slurp the tubule into his mouth.
Sennah was reluctant, but then her stomach let out another low angry growl. Her fingers pinched one of the slimy tubules and she slurped it between her lips. Despite the consistency, the taste wasn’t so bad. It has a slight spicy kick to it that she enjoyed, and she continued to slurp down handfuls of tubules as fast as she could. When the bowl was empty, she held it out towards Vysan and asked if she could have more. His mouth quirked in amusement, but he complied. Filling the bowl with a larger second helping, she eagerly took it back and quickly finished it off. As she set the empty bowl aside, she asked, “What happened after I lost consciousness, hiuwe? Where are we?”
He considered her for a moment – debating what to tell such a small child. He must have seen the intelligence in her eyes, though, for he continued as if he were speaking to one older than she appeared. “We travelled deep within the belly of the world so as not be tracked. You have been asleep for a long time. We are nearing the edge of the outlands of the Malethian territory. From there we cannot help you further.”
“So you are helping us,” she said, incredulous, “even after my guardian and our guide shot at you?”
“You saved my life. And your guardian fought fiercely to keep you. The task was found worthy.”
“What do you mean that he fought fiercely to keep me, hiuwe? Was that how he was injured?” She had heard of the Xanarhii’s trial by combat, but she’d never heard of them keeping non-Xanarhii children. She did not like the thought of them laying claim on her.
“I know only a little of Common speech,” he explained. “But I was able to communicate with your companions what had transpired and what you wished of me. I told them that it was up to the Clan Elders to decide if I would be able to grant your request.” He brought his legs up to fold them in front of him and placed his hands on his knees. “The Clan Elders met and heard what I had to say of you. Intrigued by your…uniqueness, they wished to assimilate you in hopes that you could protect us from the affairs of the gwaanii. Tensions are high. War is on the horizon. You would prove to be a valuable addition.”
Sennah knew that the word, gwaanii, meant “outsiders”, but she was still confused. Why would they need her to protect them? Musqar Fenn had mentioned the Musqars’ plans to move against the Magirians. But was that enough to worry the Leftbehind, who have managed to remain hidden for ages?
“Children are precious commodities to the Leftbehind. Our roots are strong, but our numbers are dwindling,” Vysan continued. “We have resorted to taking in the unwanted female infants the Musqars abandon near the Fire Falls. We raise them as our own, and they grow to increase our ranks and bare more Xanarhii children.”
Sennah glanced over at the man piloting the ship.
“Yes,” Vysan said, answering her unspoken question. “Matisyan’s mother is Daizan. The Elders honored our journey by giving us the use of one of our clan’s best pilots.”
“My guardian’s injuries…,”she prompted.
“He refused to relinquish you. The Elders gave him a chance to prove himself worthy of your guardianship by defeating a kodja in combat.”
Sennah blanched. She had learned of those cunning, vicious creatures from Rysura. They made syviathuns seem tame, and dull-witted in comparison. A fierce pride for her uncle swelled in her chest. He had taken on a kodja and survived.
She knew that different races used kodja as deterrents against trespassers for their sacred sites and places of great value. The Xanarhii used the vicious beasts to prove themselves worthy of the title Warrior, by defeating one in combat and bathing in its blood. Without meaning to, Vrahnon the mighty Daizan Highborn, Magrah to the Magira bloodline had become a Xanarhii Warrior for her. Sennah could not help the rueful smirk that curled her lips, thinking of how much Rysura would have absolutely hated that.
“You mean much to him,” Vysan said, studying her with his keen eyes. “He fought a wise and valiant battle. Your guide wanted to fight with him, but it was against the laws of combat. A warrior must be able to stand alone if they are to be worthy to fight for others. Your guardian proved himself worthy.”
The watercraft passed through into a small dark tunnel, leaving the bioluminescent ecosystem behind.
The water began to rush faster. Though Matisyan piloted the craft with expert precision, Vysan activated the security bonds, holding them in place.
They began to twist and turn abruptly as the craft sped through the dark, winding tunnels.
The abrupt movements must have woken the men below, for she heard Vrahnon shout out her name in panic.
“I am up on deck,” she shouted back. “All is well!”
The two men burst on to the deck, quickly taking in their surroundings.
“Sit,” Vysan commanded in his rudimentary Common. “Close now. Not long.”
The men sat down on either side of her, and she could sense their protective wariness as they eyed Vysan. It made her wonder if the Clan Elders’ wish to keep her was more forceful and less amicable than Vysan had let on.
Vysan activated their security bonds as well. Vrahnon brought her into his side, his arm secure around her as the pilot mane
uvered the craft through a narrow chute that shot them out into the air above a large subterranean lake. Sennah held onto her uncle’s side while they were in free fall before plunging deep beneath dark waters.
Opening her eyes, Sennah thought she saw the murky xjaasa of some large aquatic nether beast swimming towards them. One glance at Vysan confirmed her fears, but the look in his eyes told her not to worry. At that moment, Matisyan activated some sort of field that must repel such creatures, for she saw it immediately turn and swim away from them.
Matisyan steered the craft around jagged pillars of eroded stone toward some wavering shafts of light emanating from an opening in a rock wall. As they got closer to the source of the light, the water transitioned from murky darkness to a beautiful translucent blue.
Emerging from the opening and up to the surface, they seemed to have arrived at the bottom of an ancient well. The sun shone brightly down into the cavern, causing them all to shield their faces as their eyes adjusted to the painful brightness.
When her eyes fully adjusted, Sennah noticed that the apparatus attached to the well’s opening seemed corroded and abandoned. The water they had emerged from encircled a large island of rock with tall jagged spires like the pillars they had just navigated around down below. The largest spire had roughhewn stairs carved into it, spiraling all the way to the top. From above, all that could be seen down below would be dry rock.
“Before this was known as the Outskirts, a large band of rovers had control over this area after many bloody battles,” Vysan explained to her, as they all looked up towards the opening. “They controlled it until the Malethians massacred their leaders and pushed the survivors further into the wastelands, only to be quickly forgotten and taken over by black-market merchants. The well was thought to be dry, so it was abandoned and fell into disrepair.” He looked down at Sennah. “Stupid of them, but good for us. And good for you.”
